Down In New Orleans

I sat cross legged

On a rooftop swirling

with confetti and beads

On a rooftop shaking from young bloods

Dancing away their sickness

On a rooftop where I made love

The golden hour of summer never ends

While her body glowing

with the brazen shine of Louis’ trumpet

casts a luminous glow over my eyes

The sweat and satisfaction released tonight

Carries out to the Gulf and back again

To rain down upon us in the coming years

Set your heart towards the promise

Of a greater feast, when gratitude runs thick

and sweeter than any beignet, more soulful

Than the repetition in the swings of Duke

I await the coming of sunshine

During the desolate days of winter

My windows are not adorned with streamers

The only flashes are the ones stored

In my camera, holding the secrets

Of summers come and gone

I lift my eyes towards the rising sun

Singing songs we can’t

remember how to forget

Take pride in the adoration

Savory superstition and Fauborg-kissed lips

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